Ensuring the Future
by StarbearerTM
Summary: Fearing they are growing complacent, Future Trunks and Gohan decide to have a professional train them. But when it's Baki Hanma, what is in store for them? Shonen-ai sequel to Time's Lesson's Learned.
1. Five Years Later

_Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. I don't own Baki the Grappler either. This story is a work of fanfiction and means no harm to either anime or manga. __Written using the __Sergeant__'s concept here on this site, with help from Lord Truhan, to whom I owe a lot of thanks._

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**Ensuring the Future, Chapter #01**

**By ****starbearertm**

**Summary:** Sequel to Time's Lesson's Learned. Future Trunks and Gohan have been together for five years. Trunks is President of Capsule, and Gohan is his VP. However Future Trunks can't help think that they are slacking off on training, and need to take the possibilities of future enemies seriously.

_Life was good, but complex_, thought Future Trunks.

From his vantage point behind a mahogany desk, he spun his chair to peer out the curved window behind him. Through the tempered tinted glass, he beheld the cityscape spreading in 180 degrees below and around. Nothing but perfect gleaming spheres atop cylindrical pipes like steel lollipops festooned with sugar stood up from the graceful curving mega domes that were West City. In the light of the noonday sun, they gleamed, pure white, hard, and opaque compared to the fluffy white of the thread clouds chasing one another through the sky.

West City grounded him in this time, for Future Trunks had helped a great deal in building and expanding the metropolis in the last five years. Capsule had continued to bring new jobs and fascinating careers to its inhabitants both here and in the other major five cities on the large continent. If he peered far enough with those Saiyan eyes, he could see the shimmering line separating sky from earth, marking the horizon.

He needed the reassurance that the spires would not be the cracked and battered ones of his own home time. Although many of them were neatly repaired and rebuilt, the entirely new constructions of his West City seemed to have no permanence. He knew they were just window dressing overtop old painful scars. Here in this time he vowed that nothing again would ever catch him or his friends unawares. No evil would slink out of a deep hole in the ground to mar the new world he had helped to save. Not the world where he had found his heart and destiny.

Of what good was he to a world where there were no enemies to fight save hunger and the endless drone of mundane civilization? He had done his part, his mother said, sending him on his way because she knew where his desires lay. It was time for him to take what he truly wished, like the hero finding the hand of the beautiful maiden waiting for him patiently at home. Conventional fairy tales did not include the possibility that sometimes the hero would come into the arms of a longing lad who had fought side by side with him.

The promise and the dream he had left behind for millions would create a world of peace, free of violence. Free for people to live without fear, and out from under the shadow of near oblivion. His earth and time had earned its reprieve. Without any Saiya-jin there to protect it, there were still heroes of minor power like Ox King and Master Roshi. Anything could be handled now that Cell was exterminated. Yet there was no Gohan. Life in a world without Gohan barely seemed worth living. Although he could take the time machine and rid the various timelines of Cell's existence, knowing he had died in one of them had shattered Trunks mortality.

Life was so fleeting in a world without Dragon Balls. Ghosted with the specters of the past, Future Trunks mused on these things with a troubled brow. In a way, he felt like a legendary king of old, entrusted with a realm of uncertainty, and all eyes looked to him for guidance. Bulma had looked to him instead of the child Trunks to take the reins and rule Capsule in her stead. While still the CEO on the board of trustees, he guided the course of daily operation. Fortunately, he had his love at his side, the Vice President of Research and Development named Gohan Son.

A buzz shattered his troubled contemplation, and Trunks welcomed it. Depressing the intercom button marked 'front office' he said, "Yes Miss Thyme?"

"Sir, the VP of Technology is here to see you about the latest RD reports you wanted to see," said the administrative assistant.

Trunks smiled to himself. They kept up the pretense of formalities for the comfort of the employees. So he said, "I'll see him now."

Even so as the door to his office clicked open, he suppressed his glowing joy to a mere happy upsweep of the lips. Glasses gleaming in the light of the noonday sun, VP Gohan Son stepped into the office, walking across thick carpet towards the expansive desk. From behind it, President Briefs pushed himself away from stacks of paper and his laptop keyboard. Out of the leather high-backed chair he rose, then rounded the desk towards his Vice President.

"Latest reports on the Capsislim model. We've figured out how to put twice the amount in our newest and most durable capsule," Son Gohan reported, tapping the edge of the binder tucked under his arm.

"And hello to you too?" President Trunks asked, laying a hand on Gohan's lapel and lightly tugging on it.

"Sorry, forgot to say hi," VP Gohan apologized, and then leaned over to press a quick kiss to his lips.

"Just in time too," Future Trunks smiled warmly, taking the portfolio that Gohan swept out and placed in his hands. Hand resting on the small of Gohan's back he led the way to the desk although they had walked this path thousands of times before. Running his fingertips over the light wool of Gohan's charcoal gray suit, he admired how well it coordinated with the light blue shirt, and navy necktie he had chosen for today.

"We should be expecting to ramp up production from the pilot process in a month if all goes well. I just need you to sign off on the specifications, sir," Gohan winked through his light prescription reading glasses.

"Ah the duties of the job," President Briefs sighed overdramatically, and then let the portfolio drop on one emptied place on his desk. He then settled down in his chair, accompanied by Gohan who pulled up a smaller yet still comfortable one from the side. Now on Trunks side of the desk they set the portfolio partly on Trunks knee, and rested the other side on Gohan's. Like parents, they scrutinized the growing process of the blueprints over which Gohan tracked his finger.

"You see we need your approval to transfer the process to East City's plant. They've got the best preexisting processing assembly lines," Gohan pointed to one column of text.

"Right," nodded Future Trunks, resting his finger right beside Gohan's.

A set of gold cufflinks shimmered briefly from under the edge of his salmon colored shirt. The champagne colored dress slacks slid under the binder as he leaned closer to his Vice President so their knees touched as well as their forearms. Now Gohan tugged his chair around so he sat side by side with his President. Scrutinizing him in profile, Gohan noted how Trunks blue eyes stared through the report as if it did not exist.

"Trunks, what's wrong?" he asked, nudging him lightly.

Not that he made a habit of it, but sometimes Gohan also liked to peer out the long tall windows curving around in a circle in Trunks office whenever there. Especially when the dark haired demi considered the immediate scenery of lavender, silky hair much more pleasing. A few tendrils of it hung before Trunks face. The rest was gathered in a ponytail at the nape of Trunks neck. Ever since Gohan commented how much he loved Trunks hair when he had come out of the HTC all those years ago, Trunks had vowed not to cut it. Besides, it helped differentiate him from his younger doppelganger.

"Mm sorry," Future Trunks apologized.

Gohan slid his glasses up off his face, his dark eyes peering through the haze of Trunks brown study. "You've been a million miles away. What's wrong Handsome?"

"Nothing, everything," apologized Future Trunks, nodding towards the city beyond their walls. "All this we've built in the last five years. It could be gone easily like that…"

The percussive snap of Trunks fingers tensed Gohan. He pulled the binder into his own lap, and rested his hand on Trunks shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze. Pulling him closer he pressed a comforting kiss to Trunks cheek. "Hey, you and I won't stand by and let it happen."

"But we're consumed with running Capsule, Sexy," Trunks reminded him. "When was the last time you or I had serious training?"

"We do what we can on the weekends," Gohan reassured him.

"But that's not enough sometimes," mumbled Future Trunks. Lifting his hand, he caressed Gohan's cheek lovingly as if he would fade away.

"Trunks cut it out. There's Vegeta, my dad, Piccolo… and even Chibi and Goten remember," Gohan reminded him, resting his hand overtop Trunks.

"Even so there's little excuse to slack off, Gohan. The thought of anything happening to you because I failed to protect…" Trunks trailed off.

"Stop it Trunks. That won't happen. Besides, both of us can fight," he reminded his lover.

"Even so, when our fathers aren't around, it's up to us. Besides which, you remember the last tournament?"

"The Budokai? Yes, how could I forget? That black look Vegeta gave me for not entering," Gohan sighed.

"It was all he could do to get Chibi and Goten to enter. But Bra ended up kicking both their backsides because they hadn't been taking their training very seriously either," mumbled Trunks.

"Well Videl made a good account of herself in the following match," Gohan shrugged.

"Still our fathers have all the time in the world to train. Yet if there were some great catastrophe that took them out… Gohan we have no excuse. Somehow we have to keep training, and not lose ground," Future Trunks snorted.

"Well you and I give it our all when we can break away to train," Gohan mused, fingering his chin.

"But we're not getting any stronger. We need someone to push us," Trunks realized.

"There's always Piccolo," Gohan pondered, setting the portfolio on the desk behind him.

Trunks sighed, "I had forgotten that. He'd probably comment we'd take him out before he could help us get any stronger."

Gohan tapped his chin, "Now that you mention it I'm afraid he'll say no. It looks more as if he'd rather be Dende's bodyguard nowadays. Not to mention he'll just say he's already taught me all he knows… which is true."

"So I've been thinking we should put an ad out for a trainer or someone capable of helping put our feet to the fire," Future Trunks insisted.

"You're sold on this then; you want to move ahead with it?" Gohan asked.

"Yes sir I am," Trunks grinned.

"Speaking of 'sir' can your VP ask permission to sit on your knee?" asked Gohan playfully.

"What do I get in exchange for the privilege?" asked Trunks, seeing the flirtatious gleam in the other demi's eye.

"How about a kiss Handsome?" Gohan lifted his brow. Extending his hand, Trunks motioned Gohan to shift from his chair, and then used the same hand to pat his left thigh.

Gohan abandoned his chair and boosted himself to sit across Trunk's lap crosswise. Wrapping his arm around his lover's shoulders, he made an exaggerated shift to get comfortable, evoking a predicted response. Trunks felt his suit pants growing quite tight, and plotted what he would do later to get revenge. With Gohan's breath surging hot into his ear, Trunks felt relaxed and aroused simultaneously, a delicate balance that rounded out a very fulfilling day. Leaning forwards, Gohan brushed his lips to Trunks, and then slipped his tongue teasingly past them. Reciprocating, Trunks let their tongues dance a bit before they surfaced for breath.

"Now Mr. President, what sort of person do you have in mind to whip us into shape, eh?" Gohan asked in a sultry tone.

"More like a coach in a way," Trunks answered, distracted by Gohan blowing in his ear and licking his tongue over the sensitive shell of it.

Gohan lowered his glasses back onto his nose, and tapped ticked the reasons off on his fingers, while keeping one arm wrapped around Trunks neck. "So let me see if I get what you're saying here. According to your fears, we're spending so much time dealing with real life, putting those commitments above everything else that we're feeling guilty or don't have enough will to train seriously when we actually get the time," he began.

"That's true," Trunks nodded, softly kissing Gohan's cheek.

To this Gohan shivered a bit, and coughed cutely, which gave him that nerdy vulnerable look Trunks found so adorable and sexy. He continued, "So… I figure what we'd need is some sort of training commitment too. Therefore, we are not using training time as an adjusting variable. We need someone to tell us to train even when we do not want to do it."

"Do you know how hot you look Sexy when you're all intellectual on me?" Trunks buzzed in his ear, sending delicious shivers all over Gohan's skin. He squirmed deliciously in Trunks lap.

"Ahem… I wouldn't mind being on you, but you asked for my input so I'm giving it…"

"Input, a favorite word of mine. So continue… and I'll give you my input later, Sexy," Trunks teased him.

"Right… now … where was I… someone to personify training, and with whom we will get a fixed summons. You know like when a person goes to psychoanalysis, they got to pay whether they attend or not the appointment," a slightly flustered but aroused Gohan answered.

"You've summed it up exactly sexy," Trunks complemented him; please that Gohan had suddenly assessed and processed the situation. Now they were of one mind on the same mental page.

"Speaking of coach," Gohan interrupted, enjoying the feel of Trunks hand sliding up and over his hip possessively. "Are we still on for Valentine's Day this year?"

"I made the reservations in advance," Trunks nodded. "But back to the topic at hand."

"As I was saying, a trainer sounds like a good idea. Maybe someone with an authoritarian personality. We don't really need someone that qualified, because we know how to train. We just need a boogeyman to leave us no choice." Gohan suggested and leaned against his mate's chest. "You know for someone out of shape, you still have a firm chest."

"Thanks Sexy. I think that is wise. Perhaps we should put out an ad and see what nibbles we get," said Trunks, rubbing Gohan's chest through his shirt.

"That's fine with me. Do you think we should do interviews? I've no ideas what we should ask during them," Gohan mused.

"Well I think we should assess the person's general feel. See what vibe we get. If we can have them give us hell they can keep us on task we have our person," said Trunks.

"Oh I know a person who fits this taskmaster description of yours," Gohan replied smiling.

"Oh… do you?" asked Trunks with a raised brow. He saw the wheels turning in Gohan's head.

"Yes, you could ask my mom to train us. She has a PhD in bossing people around, and she'd sure be delighted to give you hell."

"No thanks," Trunks mumbled. "She's good, but we need an impartial third party."

Gohan laughed, remembering how things had once been very tense at the beginning of their relationship. Fortunately, Chichi had seen the logic and advantages in the situation. Either way Gohan married into money, and who was richer then Trunks Briefs. Eventually, it would even be possible to consider a grandchild if what Vegeta told them was plausible. Yet they could not even consider children with what they were about to undertake now.

"Are you sure? It will be hard to find anyone more competent than her. Remember how I was before you come back and rescued me," Gohan asked before he leaned forwards and kissed his lavender haired lover.

"Very true," chuckled Trunks returning the kiss. "Not a bad idea. But still… we need someone else who really knows about training to help us to surpass our limits."

"Someone like a cross between my mother, Piccolo and your dad," Gohan shuddered. "That's one scary combo."

"Then we should definitely interview some people. Put out an ad and see what happens," Trunks nodded. Patting Gohan's back, he enjoyed the feel of his mate sitting there.

"Yes, we need a coach more than anything else. Someone to keep us motivated. We will do the rest by ourselves if needed. It's just that extra push we need."

"Hmm… that's it. Someone to blow the whistle on us and tell us to drop and give him fifty thousand," joked Trunks.

"Seems we'll have lot of fun," Gohan grinned. "Drop and give me fifty thousand mister president."

"Ha hah," Future Trunks laughed. He nudged Gohan a bit and then feels a bit less guilty about not 'buckling down on training.' "You do realize we might have to think of who's going to run the company when we're training."

"We probably can leave work one or two hours earlier everyday to train and we also have the weekends. I believe we can handle both, especially since we mostly want to reduce the power gap with our fathers," Gohan then pointed out.

"Very true. However, Chibi and Goten-kun might eventually be up to lending a hand. They're already working out well in marketing/sales. And with the recent business trip where I sent them to represent Capsule," said Trunks.

"Sure by the time we get back into shape we can give them more responsibility. Although there's difference between training and becoming a training addict like your father. I can't really see us spending all our time doing only sex and training."

"Well both are forms of training," Trunks teased, running a finger down the bridge of Gohan's nose. "And we can give the trainer a sort of six month trial run?"

"That way if we're not happy we don't have to keep him." Gohan nodded. With the warmth he conveyed to Trunks lap, he felt the temperature in the room was steadily climbing as well. Especially since he felt that, the first thing he wanted to do was to forget all about the affairs of work and just plunge into bed after a relaxing date.

"Now how about dropping and giving me those fifty thousand. It's either that or a romantic evening," Gohan pretended blackmailing Trunks.

"With you sitting on my back then?" Trunks stuck his tongue out. "Or you underneath me?"

"I'd rather be on your back, so you can be underneath me when I'll take you on this big desk of yours," Gohan winked. Trunks chuckled, seeing the gleam in his eye. He pressed a leisurely kiss to his Gohan's lips and then pulled back to make a note on his calendar.

"You're writing down that today you'll be taken by me," his dark haired lover grinned further. Seizing Trunks necktie he tugged it to bring him closer. Trunks laughed and allowed Gohan the privilege of yanking their faces in proximity. While he was happy that Gohan seemed in harmony as he, from his lover's gentle play he could tell it was time for other business.

"So should I start counting?" Gohan joked.

"Mmm as tempting as it sounds, I figure I'll procrastinate a bit more while I still can and go for the romantic evening, Sexy," Trunks laughed.

With a long and deep kiss, he sealed off any further comments. Trunks pushed papers aside on his desk, sending various office supplies clattering to the floor. The next piece of business involved boosting Gohan onto the desk, his fingers twisting into the light blue shirt. Soon the only sound that echoed in the office was those of the two lovers letting their garments whisper to the floor.


	2. Finding a Trainer

Ensuring the Future, Chapter #02

By starbearertm

_Disclaimer: I do not own Gohan, Trunks, or Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. I do not own Baki Hanma either. This is a work of fan fiction and is written in appreciation for a great series. _This story is written using the concept of the Sergeant as developed by Lord Truhan. Many thanks to him for helping me with the story!

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Two weeks flew by rapidly, amidst a flurry of resumes crossing Trunks desk. Into high gear, the search shifted for the perfect taskmaster. Out of dozens of applications, they had narrowed the stack down to a manageable level. Now the mahogany desk was piled high with various resumes, but Trunks joked that at least they could see his face overtop of them. Some applicants relished the challenge to shape two office dwellers into athletes, while others simply were drawn by the promise of Capsule paychecks.

Throughout it all, Trunks had juggled the running of his corporation. More and more side projects shunted over to the eager younger doppelganger, while Goten picked up bits and pieces along the way. While not a scholar like his brother, Goten still had a basic sense of what made money and what did not. His personality yearned for simplicity so he sought to eliminate waste in the world around him, including pork barrel budgets and suspicious skimming. Together he and Chibi Trunks cleaned up a whole mess in the marketing and sales department and ousted an embezzler. For this, they were rewarded with the former's position.

It was good to see running capsule ran in the Briefs blood just as fighting seemed to. In favor of college, both youths performed an internship with equivalency courses during the night. Much in the path that Gohan had trod, they would earn their college diplomas while still learning the family business. More and more the relationship between them grew to resemble that of Gohan and Future Trunks. It was apparent they were far closer than mere best friends were all these years. Sustained by the success of their older brother's bond, they drew enough courage to admit their own love.

Yet amidst all this Trunks slogged on through seemingly endless interviews of the chosen pool of candidates. They ranged from sublime to ridiculous. Some fit like a floppy shoe while others like wingtips when they wanted trainer shoes. None seemed to fit their specific needs. Inevitably, Trunks and Gohan whittled down the field to a handful. Still they despaired ever finding that perfect candidate for their needs.

On one such day, Trunks propped his feet up wearily on his mahogany desk and rifled through his silky purple hair. Another round of interviews yielded taskmasters that still lacked that critical element. As he awaited his Vice President, he removed his feet from the desk and picked up his coffee cup. The dark liquid swirled inside the ceramic container as Trunks peered into it like a fortuneteller. Taking a last sip, he then set it down and arraigned the last resume before him. The name caught his eye, and he sighed with a glance at his wristwatch.

"Close to quitting time," he told himself, and then heard the click of the door without the familiar summons from the front office. To his relief Son Gohan strode in, his three piece suit immaculate in comparison to Trunks slightly rumpled collar. He tugged off his navy blue blazer and hung it neatly on the coat rack, then scooped up the tan jacket draped haphazardly over one of the office chairs. Clicking his tongue, he attempted to fold it neatly.

"Leave it Sexy. It'll still be there for you later," Trunks teased him.

"Well Handsome, you're lucky it's wash and wear. But still you know how important a good impression is…" Gohan began to lecture. Rising from the desk, Trunks crossed the thick plush carpet and snatched the blazer out of Gohan's hand. Purposely he tossed it down once more, and then snagged Gohan around the waist to drag him forwards.

"Enough lectures for today, Sexy. We've got one more interview and then it's quitting time," Trunks informed him. With a smirk, he rubbed his hand up and down Gohan's back, and his dark haired lover reciprocated by slinging his hands around Trunks neck. Arms twined around one another they indulged in a leisurely kiss. Sliding his hand under Gohan's vest teasingly, Trunks fingered the buttons on the front before pulling back.

"All right then, what's the last one of the day?" asked Gohan, glancing at his wristwatch this time.

"Some guy named Baki Hanma. Seems pretty good on paper, but you never can tell," Trunks said, tugging Gohan towards the desk. Both sat down behind it and glanced at the others tossed to one side.

"Well as long as he's not advocating peace and love," Gohan shrugged.

"And what's wrong with peace and love?"

"Like mellow out man… we really reach brother," Gohan drawled in a lazy accent.

"Peace out brother, and plenty of granola and yoghurt to go with it," Trunks imitated him. Both chuckled at the last interview.

"He had some great ideas about detoxification diets, but the incense rather got to me," Gohan rubbed his nose.

"Are you sure it was incense, and not something else, like dope on a rope?" Trunks snickered.

"Now give him a break, he did seem pretty relaxed. Unlike mister, "don't you feel the burn? Aren't you excited! Wahoo!" Gohan mimicked swinging his arms in a circle. He leapt out of the chair and started doing jumping jacks.

"Don't remind me. Somehow sweating and doing aerobics to my grandma's favorite hits doesn't strike a chord with me," Trunks winced, shaking his head. However, he did like the look of Gohan comedically acting out their first interview of the day.

"Let's not forget Mister Trainer, who would have us biking 100 Km a day after a long swim in Speedos and a quick bout of en garde," Gohan dropped into a fencing pose.

"En garde," Trunks mimicked, picking up a ruler and leaping out of his chair. Grabbing a pencil Gohan dropped to a crouch and circled the implement between thumb and forefinger. Trunks lunged forwards and slashed with his ruler.

"Uh uh… keep your wrist at the right level, and don't' forget to move only your wrist!" Gohan scolded, twisting the pencil around as he mock dueled with Trunks.

"Somehow the idea of you in a tight white suit IS appealing, but we specifically said no weapons," said Trunks. Lowering their weapons, they tossed them onto Trunks desk then sat down once again in their respective chairs.

"True. Not to mention he was keener on specific sports rather than training for the sake of strength. We don't need to participate in the West City games, you know," Gohan panted, liking the look of sweat breaking out on Trunks forehead.

Patting Gohan's knee Trunks nodded. "I guess I'll have to settle for you out of that tight suit… then?"

"Well shall we knock this last interview off and then go for a nice dinner at our favorite restaurant then?" Gohan smiled, resting his hand on top of Trunks. Sliding up and down his thigh it tugged Gohan and pulled his chair closer so their knees touched. Already through the half opened slits of vertical blinds, they saw the sun hugging the horizon. Gold gleams of the nearby office towers cast their reflection on the side of Capsule's dome. From behind Trunks head, it painted his hair in an oddly contrasting hue to his lavender locks. Only his blue eyes gleamed more brightly as they took on a hungry aspect. Squeezing his hand Gohan reached for the bottom resume sitting there in the manila folder.

"It's someone named Baki Hanma. Ex military something or other. Slated for four thirty," said Trunks, grasping Gohan's wrist and twisting it up to look at the time. Pressing a kiss to Gohan's hand, he then interlaced their fingers.

"But its four thirty now," Gohan squeezed Trunks hand, and then kissed it softly. "I say if he's late we just slip out now."

"Still, we should give him at least five minutes," Trunks relented. "You never know."

"If he's not on time, then I don't think he's worth our time," Gohan said dismissively as he shifted closer to Trunks. "So what do you say, Handsome? A bit of red wine, some prime rib… a half dozen… and the night before us?" he murmured, raising his other hand to caress Trunks cheek and tuck a frond of purple hair behind his ear that had slipped free of his ponytail.

"Sounds tempting, Sexy," Trunks purred, loving the soft undertone to Gohan's sultry voice. Reaching over he slipped the glasses up onto Gohan's forehead and angled his face to brush a gentle teasing peck to his lips. Gohan slid the hand resting on Trunks cheek behind to grasp his ponytail and gently pull him forwards. Allowing him some dominance, Trunks leaned into Gohan, bringing their knees touching. Trunks spread his knees to sandwich Gohan's so they were much closer in their chairs. Blue eyes beheld midnight black, gleaming with the hunger of a long day without satiation.

As their lips merged and their breath shared, the inevitable sharp buzz of the intercom broke the moment. Irritated, both of them stared at the offending interloper blinking with its steady red light. Gohan hissed air through his pouting lip as Trunks reached over to depress the switch. "Yes Miss Thyme?"

"Your four thirty is here to see you, President Briefs. He seems pretty anxious to go in right now," said the voice of their administrative assistant.

"He's ten minutes late," Gohan mumbled.

"Just a minute, Sexy," Trunks hushed him. "Is he in the lobby now?"

"Well he's standing here tapping his foot and staring right at me. So should I send him in or not?" she asked.

Trunks eyes widened as he reached out with his ki sense. A red energy surged powerfully, tightly fettered by someone who could control his or her power. Gohan's brow lifted as well, and he slid his glasses once more on the bridge of his nose. Straightening his tie Trunks uttered, "Send him in… after two minutes."

"But Handsome he's late… and we are rather hungry," Gohan protested as Trunks stood up and wandered over to the nearby wardrobe. Tugging it open, he pulled out a clean shirt and proceeded to yank his tie off and unbutton the one he was wearing.

"It's your fault you've got me all sweaty, Gohan. Be a good sport and let us see him. Don't you feel that ki?"

"Well yes… it IS substantial for a human's, but so were the kis of some of the others," Gohan shrugged. Right now what he sensed felt the intensity of Master Roshi's, and higher then Mister Satan's surely Hastily Trunks tugged on a new shirt and buttoned it up, then slid his tie around under the collar. Immediately Gohan moved beside him, helping to straighten the collar and tuck it down around the tie that Trunks was knotting again.

"Still it's high. Moreover, don't you feel the nature of it? Isn't it worth at least giving…?" Trunks trailed off as Gohan smoothed off his shirt.

A knock sounded on the door, and Gohan moved to open it. Their young assistant poked her head around the door, her face filled with concern. "Sir, sorry to interrupt, but he's really insistent…"

"Send him in then," Trunks instructed. "Might as well squeeze it in now."

"All right, if you want to, Handsome," Gohan relented, allowing her to open the door wider. Over his shoulder, he saw the person in question looming, and felt a quality in the air that made him want to stand up straighter. Over by the wardrobe that he was closing, Trunks too felt the urge to stand at attention.

She moved aside to reveal their last interview, and Gohan strode over to stand by Trunks, allowing the person to enter. The first thing he noticed was the lack of business attire. Rather a pair of rough boots along with comfortable pants, a t-shirt under a jacket. Auburn hair curled slightly on the man's head, and two intense eyes took in the sight before them with a calculated and calm air. Still his very aura reached out and swept over both young men, silencing the questions in their throat as he marched into the office as if he owned the place. Well-chiseled lips and strong cheekbones comprised a handsome face set in a no nonsense expression that suggested neither a frown nor a smile. Something downright stern radiated from those coppery eyes fixing them in its judging stare and finding them wanting. Pulling up the chair opposite the desk, he sat down and leaned back. Boosting both feet, he set them on Trunks mahogany desk and folded his arms over his chest.

Gohan could tell through the stretch of the fabric the extent of his muscles. The shoulders were broad and wide, while his muscular forearms indicated one who trained at least as much if not more then they. Still saying nothing, the stranger glared up at them both, and Trunks realized he was standing right next to Gohan as if at attention in a military parade.

"Well, you going to interview me or not?" the man asked, his voice crackling with an intensity that made their skin crawl with excitement. It was harsh and clipped, working their hearts up to a fast pace that put them on edge.

"Nice to meet you," Trunks extended his hand.

"Let's skip the pleasantries, shall we?" the man glared down at Trunks hand. "You called me in for a reason. So instead of wasting my time with a bunch of damn fool questions, I'm going to ask YOU why you called me in here."

"Well er… that's highly… unusual," Gohan stammered.

"Well, are you going to ask me or not, pretty boy?" barked the man.

"No sir, I mean yes sir," Gohan found himself stammering. Something in his eyes reminded him instantly of Piccolo and he snapped his jaw shut to stop any further questions.

"Us ask you the questions," Trunks repeated.

"Are you going to stand there repeating everything I say, fancy pants or are we going to cut the crap?" the man answered sharply.

"No sir," Trunks trailed off, his eyes meeting those of the candidate slowly.

"And why are you standing over there looking dumb, glasses?" shouted the man as he swung his legs down and stood up. Moving quickly over to Gohan, he glared right in the face so he was only inches away. Gohan backed away slightly, his lips pressed tightly together.

"I beg your pardon?" Gohan began.

"You BEG my what?" barked Baki Hanma, cutting him off in mid sentence. "You'll do MORE than begging, nerd! Now stand still and shut up."

"Now what…"

"What was that? I didn't hear you, nerd!" Baki barked at him. "Don't speak till you're spoken to! Is that CLEAR!"

"Yes sir," Gohan swallowed hard, feeling a quivering in the pit of his stomach, as he stood up straighter than ever. Wheeling around on Trunks the red head sauntered over and turned the heat of his gaze fully onto Trunks.

"You have anything to say to me, Princess?" Baki demanded, his eyes gleaming brightly.

"You had questions for us I believe, sir," Trunks said. Gohan blinked, unmoving from his own spot.

"I didn't hear you. What was that?"

"You wanted to ask us questions," Trunks responded in a more clipped tone. "Sir."

"Here's the deal, ladies. I don't do fancy shit, and I don't waste time. So first, you'll tell me just WHAT you expect from me, what the terms of this arrangement are, and why I should work with two office yuppies?"

"Well to answer your first question," Gohan began.

"Less fringe Nerd. Spit it out," Baki barked.

"Sir, we want someone to train us," Trunks answered.

"I don't do the office treadmill crap. That's not what you mean, I take it?" Baki answered, turning to Trunks again, hands resting on his hips.

"No sir, REAL Training. We need to push hard, surpass our limits!" Trunks answered his voice clipped and short to resemble that of the taskmaster before them.

"You've been slacking off and want someone to whip your asses into shape, is that it?" Baki asked.

"Well um…" Gohan licked his lips. Immediately the copper eyes blazed into his, grabbing his necktie and tugging on it so Gohan was forced to stare at him.

"What was that? Speak up, Nerd!" Baki barked at him. "Yes or no?"

"Yes sir we…"

"You over there. Drop and give me 1000!" he shouted at Trunks. Immediately Trunks tugged off his tie and loosened his shirt collar.

"You too, Glasses! On your knees!" Baki yanked on his necktie. Without question, Gohan dropped to hands and knees, feeling the floor bobbing up and down as he proceeded to match Trunks.

"Show me what you've got. Show me you're not a waste of time," Baki ordered, pacing back and forth between the grunting and sweating duo. "I want to see those shirts soaked! My mother could go faster than you!"

Peering at the boots of their interviewee, Gohan wondered why they were letting this man boss them around. Yet as he glared over at Trunks, he saw the gleam in those blue eyes. They were filled with eagerness and the intensity that he recalled so many years ago from Cell. Sweat dripping off his skin Trunks was fully intent with completing the task given him. For a few minutes, only the sound of their pounding pulses and the grunts of their exertion filled the silence.

"Now, let's try again. What do you want from me, ladies?" he asked firmly.

"We want…" Trunks panted. "Someone to train us and keep our butts on task…"

"And?" Baki tapped his foot. Glancing at Gohan, he returned and placed a foot on his back.

"Ugh," Gohan gasped.

"You're slacking, nerd. What do you want? I can't hear you!"

"We… sir… we don't have enough time to run capsule and train. So we thought someone could give us hell," Gohan huffed.

"What type of training?"

"Martial arts training sir. No weapons," Trunks shouted from the other side of the room.

"Will you do anything you're told, without question?" Baki asked, his foot pressing down on Gohan's back harder.

"Yes… but one… limitation," Gohan huffed.

"What's that, nerd?" Baki grunted down at him.

"We still have to run… Capsule…"

"How much time can you give me, Princess?" Baki called over to Trunks.

"Anytime after five!" Trunks shouted, sweat soaking his shirt in huge dark blotches.

"And weekends!" Gohan added.

"Anything ELSE, pretty boy?" Baki demanded. "You willing to wear military fatigues?"

"Yes sir!" shouted Trunks. "But I keep my hair long!"

"Ok. But I've got another question too," Baki glanced back to Gohan, then Trunks.

"Which is… sir?" Gohan groaned.

"A bit winded glasses? Do you have a training facility on site here?" he asked.

"We'd want someplace… where we wouldn't be seen," Trunks explained.

"Oh, figured a big multimillion dollar place like this it wouldn't matter," Baki shrugged.

"That's one thing," Gohan panted. "We don't want to attract attention… undue attention."

"Hmm, first sensible thing I've heard you say, nerd," Baki grunted with reserved approval.

"It'd be up to you… to find a training facility suitable, that we could modify," Trunks huffed, sweat dropping to make dark spots on the carpet.

"Uh huh. However, there is one last thing; will you give me two weeks of your time, for a trial? No questions asked, wherever I say?"

"Two weeks sir?" asked Trunks.

"I need to see what you're made of, ladies. After that, if you make the cut, then it's ass to the grindstone whatever I say goes," said he.

"What are your… salary requirements?" asked Trunks.

"I don't give a damn about the money. Do we have a deal or not?" asked Baki, removing his foot from Gohan's back. Glasses steamed up, Gohan struggled to complete his 1000 pushups. Trunks finished first, kneeling and glancing expectantly up at the stranger who had kowtowed them with his presence alone.

"Yes. I'll have papers drawn up. But these two weeks… how soon?"

"How soon can you start?" asked Baki, turning the question back to Trunks, arms folded over his chest much in the manner of Vegeta. Muscles twitched in his broad neck, his skin bronzed and gleaming under the office lights.

"The 13th," Trunks huffed, standing up straight and then glancing to his calendar.

"But Trunks that's when we…"

"Got an issue, pretty boy?" Baki snorted, glaring at Gohan.

"We take our special valentine's day trip then," Gohan protested.

"Gohan, this is more important," Trunks cut him off.

"You got some issue with priorities, nerd? Turn over and give me 500 sit-ups and then answer!" Baki glared at him, grabbing Gohan by the collar, and glaring at him again.

"No I mean yes… I mean…"

"On your back, nerd, now!" Baki snapped. Sullenly Gohan felt himself drop to his knees as the red headed man let go of him. He flipped over onto his back, and then folded his hands behind his head.

"Gohan, this is too important. We need to give him a chance," said Trunks firmly.

"So, what will it be? You do what Princess here says, or are you really doing this because you want it, nerd?" Baki snapped, stamping down on Gohan's feet as he curled up his body and touched his knees to his chin.

"I… want it," Gohan panted, fire radiating through his abdomen with each tug upwards and the downwards grind of Baki's boot into his tones forcing him to stay in one place.

"I'm not convinced. Maybe after a few more sit-ups you'll give me a better answer. And you, pretty boy, where's your measurements then," Baki turned to Trunks. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out an object and tossed it over towards the Capsule president. Neatly Trunks caught it, noticing it was a tightly rolled tape measure.

"Right away," Trunks said.

"Pen and paper, now," Baki ordered. Trunks grabbed the nearest legal pad and a pen, then marched them over to where Baki stood on Gohan's feet. Huffing with steamed glasses Gohan continued his 500 sit-ups. He had to admit Baki's hold on his feet was making it a bit easier for him.

"Here," Trunks said. Baki snatched the pad and pen, and then motioned Trunks to turn.

"Turn around. Stand still," he ordered. Something was pressed to Trunks back, and he felt the dig of the pen as Baki scribbled something on the paper. It was hard to stand in one place with the pressure of the pen digging abnormally hard into his back, but he gritted his teeth. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead.

"Turn around again, Princess. Now, be at that address at that time. And I'll need that amount of money as well, before I leave, for the necessary fees," he pointed to a figure scrawled under an address on the pad he thrust back at Trunks.

"Here are my measurements," Trunks said, tearing off a sheet from under it and quickly scribbling them. "And Gohan's."

"Can't write it for himself can he?" Baki glanced down at a sweating Gohan laboring away.

"That's not it sir, it's just saving time," Trunks said.

"You his tailor or something, sweet cheeks? I take it you two are lovers. That going to affect the training?"

"Only in the case that we insist on sharing a bed," Trunks chimed in.

"Are you sure there aren't any other… stipulations you'd like to mention?" Baki quirked his lip up.

"None other sir, then as I said before, you are responsible for finding a suitable training facility, that I get to keep my long hair," Trunks ticked off on his fingers. "And that the facility you find can be modified."

"Fine. As for you, Glasses, you care to tell me why you're doing this again," Baki glared down at him.

"What sir?" Gohan panted.

"I said, why are you doing this?" Baki repeated, voice rising in volume. His eyes bored into Gohan's soul.

"Because I want to improve," Gohan panted again.

"What lame assed answer is that? Improve how? Why?"

"I want to stop slacking off! Prove that I can protect those I need to!" Gohan shouted, completing his 500th sit-up. He hugged his knees, his abdomen spasming as he sat there. Heart pounding in his ear he stared up indignantly at his lover and the unimpressed trainer to be.

"Took you damn long enough to admit it then," Baki glared at him. He lifted his foot from Gohan's, and then backed away. Rolling over Gohan stood on hands and knees, sweat blistering from every pore it seemed. He rocked back and then sat on his backside, propping himself from falling with one hand behind him, then folded his legs Indian style.

Then their would-be-trainer turned again to Trunks. With a straight face, he poked a finger in Trunks direction saying, "Since you've both wasted a good deal of time, you get to show up at this address in hot pink workout clothes."

"Pink?" Trunks blinked incredulously.

"You deaf Princess? I said they have to be pink, as in matching socks and underwear," Baki smirked, finally showing emotion other then disdain or neutral harshness.

"Might I ask why?" Gohan demanded.

"I'll tell you why, yuppie boys," Baki held up his hand, and then pointed to each of his fingers in turn. "One, you wasted my time with having me WAIT to be introduced. Two, you both took your sweet time giving me answers to very SIMPLE questions… which pissed me off because you should have just spit it out!"

Both lovers glanced at one another and felt their faces flushing. Silent understanding passed between them when Trunks nodded, followed by Gohan. Already in less than a half hour, this man had upended their complacency. Such a rare quality could not slip through their fingers once captured.

"Fine, you have a deal… sir," Gohan panted. Still he sat on the floor, dazed from the blood rushing in his face.

"Miss Thyme will write you a check on the way out," said Trunks as he reached over to help Gohan up. A steady tug pulled his dark haired lover up to his feet. Still standing with ramrod posture, they regarded him.

"See you then, ladies," Baki nodded with a firm grunt. Something in his gaze belied excitement. They could sense in their guts a grudging acceptance that they had passed a first test. Both knew that this was the one they needed.


	3. Getting into Gear

_Disclaimer: I do not own Gohan, Trunks, or Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. I do not own Baki Hanma either. This is a work of fan fiction and is written in appreciation for a great series._ This story is written using the concept of the Sergeant as developed by Lord Truhan. Many thanks to him for helping me with the story!

**Ensuring the Future, Chapter #03**

**By ****starbearertm**

* * *

Tentatively Future Trunks approached the glass door with the words "Miss Hazel's Dance Shoppe' painted in purple cursive letters on the upper panel. All on the first level of the older converted house was the store. At one time, it had been a private residence but now was partitioned off into multiple offices and shops. Taking up the entire first two levels the sports/dance shop was his last resort. Most of the other athletic stores had no such things, so they were forced to resort to the dance and ballet shops.

The bell rang as Gohan pushed the glass door to, Trunks peering over his shoulder. They tiptoed into the space illuminated by the large display windows on the front. Several customers, a few of them moms with their teen girls sorted quietly through the racks.

"Are you sure this is the only place, Gohan?" Trunks whispered into his ear.

"This is where Bulma said they bought Bra's jazz dancing outfit. They should have what we need, if nobody else does," said Gohan, stepping into the alien world.

Trunks followed, wondering why they were tiptoeing in a perfectly normal shop. Yet it felt almost like taking Gohan to a sex fetish shop for the first time. He was in Gohan's shoes now, trying not to look at all the sparkly pink tutus, or rhinestone lettering spelling out 'princess' and 'dolly dancers' on the front racks. Other more conventional sweats were neatly folded in the back shelf cubbyholes in shades of lime, apple, and cherry. One block of color seized his attention, and he pointed to it eagerly.

"There Handsome, I told you! They have the right color! Was I right or what?" Gohan crowed triumphantly.

"Shh!" Trunks urged when one of the teen girls pawing through the tutu rack looked towards them.

"Can I help you?" she asked politely.

"Um well…" Trunks scratched his head.

"We need two sets of sweats. Hot pink, in these sizes," Gohan said, reaching for the folded slip of paper. He extracted it from his pants pocket, and then handed it to the sales clerk.

Trunks blinked at the nametag for 'Princess Dance Shoppe' bearing the clerk's moniker of Dee Dee. She pushed a frond of green hair behind her left ear and scanned the paper. Then glanced at both young men for a moment. Her eyes widened, and then she asked, "Size 32? We only have women's sizes but I can convert it…"

"Women's sizes?" Trunks blinked.

"Well it's only a matter of subtracting 20 from the man's size," Gohan said pragmatically, mentally calculating. "That'd be 12."

"That's nuts," Trunks blinked.

"Size 9 1/2 men's shoe? That would be 11 in ladies, but I do think we have some larger sizes in the back," Dee Dee mused, tapping her chin with her hand not holding the paper.

"But Gohan… what if they don't have the right size? " Trunks whispered.

"May I help you?" said another voice, and an older matron with a similar nametag wandered over to peer over Dee Dee's shoulder. Trunks winced, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at the people staring in their direction.

"They want size 11 shoes, and size 12 tops and pants… in hot pink…" Dee Dee explained with a perfectly straight face.

"Uh huh," the head clerk nodded, glancing at Gohan and Trunks. "Is this for you or someone else?"

"Um…" Trunks mumbled, scuffing the carpet with his toe. Taking the glasses that dangled on a chain around her neck the older clerk placed them on her nose to more carefully scrutinize the paper.

"Both of us," Gohan said innocently and Trunks groaned. They saw her nametag bear the moniker "Hazel".

"I see. Well not to worry, we have some team basketball sweats in. West City high buys them in bulk for their girl's basketball team. C'mon and let's get you trying a few on," the store manager motioned with her head. Her hair was slightly white on top, frosting the darker purplish hair underneath.

"I'll get them, Ms. Hazel," Dee Dee said brightly.

"Kelly, would you fetch a size 11 and size 12 set of sneakers… hot pink you said?" Hazel looked to Gohan for confirmation.

"Matching," Trunks hesitantly clarified. Dee Dee twirled around, her miniskirt flaring out as she walked into the rear of the store. A door marked 'staff only' swung shut with a cheerful creak behind her.

"They have to match the sweats completely," Gohan nodded.

"Socks too. We have them in the same color family," Hazel motioned them to follow her. Groaning inwardly Trunks felt Gohan take his wrist and tug him along after them.

"Thank you ma'am," Gohan said politely.

"Socks?" Trunks croaked.

"You can look through these right here," Hazel led them to baskets of multicolored socks neatly paired up. Some had rhinestones round the fold down cuffs, while others had pictures of kittens and ballet shoes on them. She selected four likely pairs and handed them over to the duo for inspection.

"Solid pink is best," Trunks mumbled.

"But if it's to match the sweats you're asking for, these are the only ones," Hazel pointed to a set that had 'princess' spelled out in minute rhinestones on the sock cuffs.

"Seriously?" Trunks despaired.

"Well they DO have to match and they are hot pink," Gohan shrugged.

"I'd like to see the sweats first," Trunks suggested. Hazel passed them the socks, and then moved over to the vast back wall replete with multiple shelves with likely candidates. She slid the ladder over and climbed up to the near top row.

"Size 12 women's long… ah yes… hot pink…" she mused, and then climbed back down bearing armfuls of sweat pants. Gohan reached up and took them from her before she reached halfway down the ladder.

"Thank you young man, that's very kind of you. But I'm used to this," she waved him away.

"See Trunks, those socks match the sweats the best," Gohan pushed the pile of pants towards him, with white twin racing stripes down the side.

"Now the jackets are this way… and you'll want pink tank tops to wear under them," she motioned once more. Leaving Trunks to carry the increasing pile of clothes Gohan fell in behind her. Trunks reluctantly brought up the rear, having piled the socks of choice atop the sweats.

Hangers rasped as Hazel pushed aside a block of hot pink jackets. "Here we are… they zip up the front," she tugged one out to hold up before them.

"But it says She-Devils on the back," Trunks pointed as she turned it over.

"So? It's the right color," Gohan hissed, when Hazel blinked at them.

"I'm sorry this is the only style we have in this size and color," she politely explained.

"Fine," mumbled Trunks dourly.

"I've got the shoes Ms. Hazel!" Dee Dee called from the back.

"Right, you gentlemen come this way. I've got a few changing rooms in the back," Hazel reassured them. Trunks still glanced warily about, certain that he felt several pairs of eyes boring into his back.

As they carried the stacks of items, they brushed past hangers on the racks. Gohan snared a few leotards on hangers from plummeting toward the carpet, losing his grip on his items so he had to raise one knee to stop from dropping them. Trunks couldn't resist teasing, "That a new dance step?"

"Ha ha," Gohan answered back. "Just you watch your hips too; you're almost knocking those hangers off the racks."

"Don't worry we'll get those," Hazel promised, reaching over to grab up the hangers that had been propelled off the rack. Gohan returned his hands to his pile and the two of them followed the sales clerk to the rear. Using the key on a lanyard around her wrist, she unlocked the dressing room.

"We'll both go in at once," Trunks said.

"All right. Sing out if you need any help, gentlemen," Hazel gave them a wink. Gohan and Trunks entered the small changing area, equipped with a triple mirror in one corner, an ornate chair in the second, and other hooks to place items on.

"Let's try these things on. We've not got a lot of time to get to where we need to be," Trunks answered, glancing at his wristwatch.

Gohan already unlaced his shoes and pulled his shirt off. Trunks was shedding his own clothes and saw how meticulously Gohan was folding his items to set them on the chair. When he snatched Trunks shirt and started to fold it Trunks rolled his eyes, "Leave it Sexy, and don't worry."

"But…" Gohan began.

"Try on those pants, Sexy, double time," Trunks ordered, slapping Gohan's BVD clad backside.

"Yes sir," Gohan stuck his tongue out at trunks and tossed an armful of sweats at his lover. Trunks neatly caught them and proceeded to kick off his shoes. Out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't resist watching his lover shimmying into the pink sweatpants, or the way in which Gohan's back muscles rippled as he turned to grab something off the chair.

Gohan in turn enjoyed the sight of Trunks own muscular backside which vanished under the slightly baggy sweats. It was a sin what that man seemed to do to any fabric tight or loose that clung to his body. Gohan took off his glasses and folded them so he could reach for the shirt and pull it on.

"I know now why I don't wear pink," Trunks complained. "It clashes with lavender! And you make me sick Sexy because you look good in ANYTHING!"

"Or without anything Handsome?" Gohan winked, breaking the tension with flirting back. Trunks seemed very uncomfortable trying on the clothes, and he was doing his best to make the most of it despite this. Playfully Gohan reached over and tugged the back of the pants to snap the elastic.

"You'll get yours, Sexy," Trunks grinned, tugging at Gohan's waistband and doing the same. His fingers slipped into Gohan's t-shirt clad sides and started to tickle him. Gohan threw his arms up to playfully fend it off but started to laugh loudly at the attack.

"Hey, yikes! This room isn't too big!" Gohan gasped as he thudded against the wall. He was very sensitive to just the brush of a finger so Trunks was driving him nuts with those feather soft touches that sent tingles down his spine.

"It's not my fault you've gotten so big and strong Sexy," Trunks answered. Panting both of them released their grip and looked at the other. Flushed slightly pink, Trunks didn't look half-bad in the hot color despite his protests.

"You're fibbing Handsome. You look fine in pink," Gohan answered, trying to catch his breath. He raised his hand to caress Trunks' cheek lovingly. As always, he couldn't resist fingering the soft silky hair.

"Thanks, Sexy," Trunks nodded, leaning over and kissing Gohan on the lips sweetly. "Now, do you think this is going to pass muster?"

"Depends on how tightly he wants us to fill these out," Gohan shrugged. Then he felt Trunks hand resting on his backside.

"Well I'll be. Even on the backside?" snickered Trunks.

"What?" Gohan asked as he craned his neck to look over one shoulder and then almost spun around like a cat chasing his tail.

"Look," Trunks said, turning around, and pointing to his own backside. Written across it were the telltale words of a sports team: She-Devils in neon pink cursive stitching.

"How appropriate," Gohan snickered.

"Hah hah," Trunks smiled awkwardly back.

"Mmm, well I'm guessing as long as it's all pink, then it fits the bill," Gohan nodded, slipping on the upper part of the sweats, a jacket that zipped up partway with the word She-Devils across the back.

"Well let's try on the socks and sneakers then," Trunks suggested, nudging Gohan to sit down. Resting his hand on Gohan's shoulder, he picked up one foot and pushed it in his lover's lap. Gohan pulled a sock on Trunks foot, and then waited for Trunks to set that food down and lift his other. Then it was Trunks turn to slip socks on Gohan's feet as well. This play dressing of one another continued to ease the tension. Next came the shoes out of their pink sparkly wrapping paper and boxes decorated with silvery stars.

Trunks turned purposely and bent over again, distorting the writing on his backside to lace up the pink sneakers. Gohan smiled at the view he was treated to, and pulled on his sneakers placing his feet on the ground to stand up. The sparkly rhinestones decorated fold down cuffs on their socks, shimmering in the light.

"All right, this will do, I think," Gohan nodded, wolf whistling at Trunks.

"Well you look just as cute as I do," Trunks smirked back, securing his hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

"Shall we wear these out or wait?" Gohan wondered.

"Wear these out? As in outside the store?" Trunks shuddered.

"C'mon, we should get used to them," Gohan shrugged pragmatically. Trunks sighed overdramatically. Gohan rested a hand on his shoulder then spun Trunks towards him. Rubbing his chest through the t-shirt he whispered, "Hey, and Handsome… I'll make you a deal."

"What?" Trunks sighed, glancing at him as he wrapped his arms around Gohan's neck. His hands rested at the back of Gohan's neck, toying with the short-cropped hair playfully. Both forearms hung heavily on Gohan's strong shoulders, as if leaning more on him for support than usual.

"I'll wear these if you do," Gohan whispered, leaning forwards to kiss Trunks cheeks, then his lips.

"Hey, are you all right in there sirs?" knocked Hazel, voice slightly muffled through the door.

"Yes," Gohan and Trunks chorused, and then chuckled at the harmony of their voices together. Pressing foreheads, they grinned and hugged tightly.

"All right then!" Hazel nodded.

"We'll be wearing them home," Gohan called.

"Fine then. We'll have your other clothes bagged," Hazel cheerfully answered. Taking a deep breath, Trunks wrapped his arm around Gohan's waist, feeling security in his lover's arm around his shoulders. They reached for the doorknob, and swung it open. Hazel stood behind the door, and glanced at their outfits.

"Well…" she commented. "Looking good."

"Please don't," Trunks said.

"It's not my say so, just hoping that you're happy with the fit. Because it's perfect," she waved her hand dismissively. A few of the other patrons, one woman with a young daughter, and two teenage girls stopped to glance.

"He looks better in pink than I do," she shook her head, and sighed.

"That's something you don't see every day," whispered her friend giggling.

"Can we go now?" Trunks murmured to Gohan. His lover had tucked the glasses to hang over the collar of his T-shirt to hold them.

"Okay, but I'm getting our clothes," Gohan said innocently as he turned to reach for the stacks of items. Trunks groaned, shaking his head at the comments and grins and whispers that he so dreaded. It wasn't the fact that he was afraid of what people thought of his being lovers with another man, it was more the scrutiny of wearing something so girly.

"I might as well go down the street and get rhinestones, high heels and a feather boa," mumbled Trunks, glancing away from the onlookers.

"C'mon, relax, they're just jealous," Gohan, whispered in his ear. "You look better in sweats then they do."

"I hope you're right," Trunks murmured as Gohan handed their clothes to the clerk who led the way to the cash register. Reaching for Trunks hand, he took it, and then gave it a reassuring squeeze. He then took his glasses from their temporary place tucked into the t-shirt collar and slid them on.

"Um, excuse us please," Gohan politely said as he brushed past the curious onlookers, Trunks in tow. The older demi was impressed to see how comfortable Gohan seemed to be, yet this was the same man who wore such outrageous clothes as the Saiyaman costume.

"At least he's not getting me to try on THAT getup," Trunks sighed with relief, snickering at the thought of Gohan wearing the ensemble.

He remembered when Gohan had first showed him the outfit back when they were first dating. While the shades and turban Gohan had adopted were passable with the costume, the helmet was too much.

His first words were, "G…Gohan what are you WEARING?"

"What do you think? I look cool don't I?" Gohan had cheerily grinned.

Trunks had clamped his mouth shut and murmured, "I reserve judgment."

Blushing at the memory, Trunks caught a glimpse of them reflected in a convex mirror high up in the corner of the store. The sort allowed the shopkeeper to keep an eye on possible shoplifters from any point in the store. Both he and his lover were side by side, resplendent in hot pink, but both with vastly different body language. In contrast to Gohan's normal demeanor, Trunks realized he stood with slumped shoulders as if hunching down to hide beside Gohan. They were approximately the same height, yet the spikes on Gohan's hair gave him a few inches on Trunks. Gohan reached for his wallet but Trunks rested a hand atop Gohan's wrist. Instead, he extracted his own from the sweat pants pocket and thumbed through for his credit card.

Two sets of pink shoes pounded into the sidewalk in unison. Occasionally cracks snaked across the grey concrete, some affording enough of a hazard to stick up and trip Trunks shortly. He easily caught himself before falling and huffed to keep up with Gohan. Both of them realized they were running dangerously close to being late keeping their appointment with Sgt. Baki Hanma.

"Oh man I am out of shape," panted Trunks, struggling to keep pace with Gohan. Already their faces blushed almost as pink as their sweats, which were saturated with moisture from the breakneck pace.

"Just twenty more blocks," Gohan gasped, snatching his glasses off his face to hang them by their temple over the collar of his t-shirt. They had fogged up with sweat, and he realized how silly they were for workout when he normally wore them for reading/working on computers anyhow. It was such a habit to put them on that he realized how long it had been since they had seriously worked out like this. Just the rapid run to the meeting point was taking a toll. A glance at his watch as he swung his arm around told him they had covered five miles in at least a minute at this pace.

By now, they had reached a section of town comprised of older warehouses and industrial parks. They had run out of the residential zone, thinning of the houses and apartment buildings that gave way to shops, and then fenced in yards and streets with few sidewalks that forced them to run on the side of a road. Occasionally a semitrailer would pass them by, and the drivers would blink at the rate at which these two were running. Pedestrians and other people witnessing them would laugh, snicker, roll their eyes, or avert their gaze.

Trunks fought a constant battle to ignore the comments or facial expressions of their observers as they ran along. He envied Gohan running alongside him, focused so completely on keeping a good pace that he tuned the surroundings out. It was a quality he always admired in his lover; the singleness of purpose and the hyper-focusing that pushed Gohan to his limits and beyond.

Up to the chain-linked gates they trudged, still running with twinges of pain creeping along their ribs. A half-rusted fence surrounded the warehouse, and the gate was ajar. Gohan pushed it open and then they dashed through. Already a figure stood waiting by the nearest garage door, his arms folded across his chest. Coppery short hair curled slightly at the ends, his eyes fixing firmly on both demi Saiyans closing the gap to within a foot of him. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist, and scrutinized both of them. His serious face then brightened up into a smirk when he noticed their clothes.

"Well well, ladies, don't you two look sweet?" Baki laughed as he saw Gohan and Trunks stop right before him.

"We… are here… sir…" Trunks gasped.

"Stand at attention both of you!" Baki barked. Instantly Gohan and Trunks stood with ramrod stiff posture, their eyes fixed forwards in a stare. Shoulders back and feet at a 45 degree angle they fisted their hands at their sides.

"All right then. You're here in the required outfits all right. Good. We've got a lot to do, and little time to waste," he said matter of fact, clapping his hands sharply. "Now, the first thing is to get you into uniform and right away!"

Both of them stood there, unsure of what to say. Whirling on them Baki shouted, "Well answer me! Yes sir or no sir!"

"Yes sir!" they both chorused.

"I didn't hear that," he repeated.

"YES SIR!" Gohan and Trunks shouted loudly, their voices bouncing off the concrete and asphalt pavements and bare cinderblock walls of the warehouse. Then the garage door slowly hummed as it lifted open, revealing a stool and cardboard boxes neatly stacked beside it.

"Hurry up and FALL IN! March, one two one two, MOVE IT!" Baki continued to bark. Gohan and Trunks hastened to march at the pace he indicated.

"Halt! About FACE!" he snapped. "As much as I LOVE your outfits, you'll both be getting into gear now…"

He walked over and pulled off the lid on one of the top boxes. Grabbing one bundle he threw it at Gohan, then tossed the other to trunks. Gohan caught hold of the folded set of clothes wrapped around a pair o combat boots, while Trunks did his. As they turned them over in their hands Baki snapped, "What the hell are you waiting for? STRIP!"

"Yes sir!" Gohan shouted.

"Yes sir!" Trunks replied a second later. Quickly they scrambled to peel off their shoes, socks, and saturated pink sweats. Dropping them into a pile, they attacked each bundle and let it drop. Contained in each packet was a long pair of camouflage pants and army green sleeveless tank tops. Dog tags jingled as they put them around their necks. On each embossed oval were their names, date of birth and blood type, not to mention religion or lack thereof. Gohan however was quickly folding his sweats as he put his bundle down and Trunks carelessly let it fall.

"Did I ask you to make a mess, Bright eyes? Pick that up NOW!" Baki yelled. Trunks mumbled something under his breath as Gohan scrambled into his fatigues.

"What the hell was that? Something to SAY to me?" Baki growled, shoving his face right into Trunks.

"No sir!"

"I'd better not hear any more crap from you. Drop and give me 500!" Baki pointed to the ground as Trunks hastily pulled on his clothes.

"But I haven't…"

"Are you DEAF, MOVE IT?" Baki shouted more loudly. Trunks dropped his boots, still in bare feet and dropped to his hands and knees. Gohan glanced over in shock.

"And what are YOU LOOKING AT! Go over there and SIT your ass down!" Baki hollered at Gohan.

"Where sir?" Gohan asked.

"The stool, dumbass!" Baki stabbed his finger towards the object in question. Gohan marched over and perched on the stool. Baki seized a pair of sheers from another box and a comb. Yanking it over Gohan's locks, he grunted and snipped a bit. Gohan saw only a few bits of hair fall down, and then heard a buzzing noise. He closed his eyes as he felt the electric razor turn his already short hair into a buzz cut.

Damn, I'm glad I'm not Trunks. He's going to flip if he has to get his hair THIS short, Gohan thought to himself. Still Trunks continued his pushups as Baki then stood back and glanced at Gohan's hair. "So, you like my work, Glasses?"

"Yes sir!"

"Now, Beauty, finish up and get over here!" Baki shouted. He shoved the clippers into Gohan's hand and the demi almost dropped them.

"Yes sir," Trunks said and then his blue eyes widened in horror. "Oh no… don't tell me…"

"Is there a PROBLEM, bright eyes?" Baki glared at him. "Move your ass!"

"But but…" Trunks stammered, still finishing his pushups.

"Are you DEAF, move it!!" Baki hollered, his face flushing red.

Gohan by now leapt off the stool, and winced when he saw the terror in Trunks face. He opened his mouth to say something, but then clamped it shut. There was nothing he could say and it would be stupid to even try. While he saw his own locks of hair laying here and there in a mess around the stool, he knew it was just a half-inch or two. Staring at the nearby mirror, he saw that there were no pointed curls of bangs left and groaned inwardly.

"Oh well, but damn, poor Trunks," he felt his heart twisting guiltily in his chest.

"ON YOUR FEET SOLDIER! MOVE IT!" Baki continued to holler at Trunks. "Are you in this or are you going to run home to mommy cause you can't hack it!"

"N… no sir," Trunks stammered.

"WHAT Was that? You scared of a set of clippers you wuss! Get your pansy ass over here now before I haul it for you and hand it to you!" Baki answered. Trunks scrambled quickly over and sat down, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Glasses, give him the same as you got. Short," said Baki.

"But…" Gohan stammered.

"Are you deaf or did that big brain of yours leak out your ears?" Baki stared at him.

"No sir!" Gohan shouted, and stepped over to Trunks with the clippers in hand. He turned them on and heard a slight whimper.

"I'm sorry, Handsome," Gohan whispered, gently grasping a handful of Trunks hair and moving the clippers to his scalp. Just short of applying them, he felt Baki seizing his wrist and pull it back.

"Wait, use these," Baki said, grabbing the clippers and slapping a pair of scissors into Gohan's hand instead. "You might just end up killing someone."

Gohan mumbled, "Yes sir," and then closed his scissors around a lock of Trunks hair. A comb was slapped into his other hand.

"Oh no," Trunks mouthed, biting his lip. Gohan felt incredible guilt as the first loud snip reverberated in the silence.

Hand on his hips Baki watched and tapped his boot impatiently, "What's taking you so damn long? CUT HIS HAIR!"

"Yes sir!" Gohan shouted, moving the scissors to Trunks ponytail. He figured it would be easier to just do it in one go. Then the ponytail came free in his hand. Trunks breathed a sigh of relief seeing that he still had some length around his neck. A look of extreme doubt came over his face and Gohan stepped back, scissors thrust into his pocket. Bits of lavender fell off the comb he ran through Gohan's hair, pooling around the bottom of the stool and mingling with the black of his own.

"You call that SHORT?" Baki ridiculed, marching over and glaring at Gohan. "SHORTER!"

"Y… yes sir!" Gohan swallowed hard, and caught a glimpse of Trunks wincing. Dragging the comb through the top, he snipped only another half inch off. Feeling the heat of Baki's impatient gaze he stepped up the pace, scissors clicking percussively like some strange dirge.

"Shorter!" Baki interrupted, marching up with the clippers in his hand. Shoving Gohan aside, he switched them on. A loud buzzing sound covered the sound of Trunks startled gasp and Gohan's sharp intake of breath as he stepped back.

An evil grin crossed Baki's face as he snatched a handful of hair and pressed the clippers to it. Trunks shivered spasmodically, feeling the vibration buzzing through him. The sudden thrust and push of the clippers then a feeling of something falling past his neck sent shivers down his spine. His heart rose into his throat, pounding as he saw pieces of hair fluttering all around his feet. With each stroke, more bits piled up to join the first. The view blurred into a purple puddle as he felt tears streaming down his cheeks. Making no sound his chin wobbled as he silently sobbed in misery.

Gohan looked on, not sure of what to say. All he could stammer was, "It… doesn't look that bad actually."

Baki stepped back and kicked over a trash can so he could empty the clippers and clean them. Miserably Trunks still glanced down at the mounds of his lavender hair all butchered. Gohan used this chance to move over and stand next to Trunks, leaning over so he could see the tears pooling in those beautiful blue eyes. Sighing he stood up and ran his hand over the back of his head, resisting the urge to throw his arms around Trunks and try to comfort him. He knew that any public displays of affection would not go over well with the impatient Sarge.

"At least it's a lot less hotter," Gohan commented, scratching his scalp and giving Trunks a goofy smile.

"How bad is it," he whispered. He slid off the stool and shakily stood up.

"Actually it looks good on you, though, Handsome," Gohan smiled warmly, bending closer to bring their faces together. Trunks slowly leaned closer.

"Really?" Trunks glanced up at him, managing a watery-eyed smile. Tears were threatening to roll down his cheeks but he pushed them back.

"Really," Gohan beamed at him. An irresistible urge to kiss Trunks and make it all better urged him forwards. As their hot breath fanned one another's faces, they forgot all about the Sergeant.

"What's this, the LOVE BOAT?" Baki interrupted sharply, startling both men. Trunks and Gohan flinched jumping apart.

"Drop and give me 5000, NOW!" the Sergeant barked, pointing to the ground. Glancing at one another Gohan and Trunks both knelt and pressed their hands into the pavement. Soon it grew dark with circles of their sweat raining down from the two recruits performing their pushups.

Whatever pain they started to feel now was nothing in comparison to the burning in their arm muscles. By the time they were performing the last five, Baki was tugging on a jacket. Circling one orbit around the sweating demis, he then lifted three objects out of the other box he'd gotten the fatigues from. Both of the demis stopped their last pushup at just the moment the Sergeant strode over and stood right before them.

"On your feet ladies! We're going for a jog. Grab these packs and move it!" Baki shouted. Gohan and Trunks leapt up, standing at attention. Then heavy backpacks slammed into each of them in turn, leaving them only a split second to grab them to prevent dropping them on their booted feet. Already Baki had a backpack strapped on his shoulders, with a lot less gear they realized.

Gohan wondered just what was in the bags, though they didn't' feel too heavy for a Saiyan to lift. Shrugging, he pulled the straps on, and then tightened them while Trunks did the same. Baki then turned and motioned them, jogging in place. "All right fall in behind me! Move it!"

Without question, the lovers hastened after their sergeant. Easily Baki trotted down the long asphalt service road out of the yard. Gohan and Trunks huffed after him, still slightly winded from their pushups. Against their backs bounced the backpacks, not so heavy at first, but with each passing minute seemed to increase. The motion of the loads tugged the straps into their shoulders, for they had only the sleeveless shirts on. Dog tags jingled in time with their pace, accompanied by the tapping of boots on hard asphalt.

"Hut two three four… move it stay sharp ladies!" Baki encouraged, breathing easily. "Sing along! I don't know what I've been told…"

"I don't know what I've been told…" Gohan and Trunks chimed in, realizing how hard it was to sing AND run simultaneously.

"But ass is worth its weight in gold!" Baki sang rudely. Both of them groaned internally and sang the line back.

"Am I right or wrong…"

"Right!"

"Shut up sing along! Sound off!" Baki continued. "One two…"

"Sound off, three four…"

Then they all continued together, "One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!"

"I don't know what I've been told… but Northern Pussy's kind of cold!"

"Sound off… one two… sound off three four…"

"One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!"

"Got a gal, she's long and tall, Sleeps in the kitchen with her ass in the hall!"

"Sound off… one two… sound off three four…"

"One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!"

On top of trying to keep pace Gohan and Trunks now sang a rather embarrassing march song about lousy camp food, exotic female parts, and Kami knows what else that would have some blushing at best, and others guffawing at worst at the colorful language and epithets.

"I've got a girl in Southern City… she's got freckles on her titty… SOUND OFF…" was the verse they reached twenty more blocks later, after cleared the industrial park.

"Sound off… one two… sound off three four…"

"One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!"

Overhead a shadow shot, followed by the noise of an engine buzzing overhead. They glimpsed up to see a small one-person plane zoom in for a landing. A white sock fluttered in the breeze from atop a long pole near a multifaceted control tower. All these they could see directly ahead as they huffed and puffed after Baki towards the gates of a small municipal airport.

"If I die on the Karan Front… Box me up with a Karan cunt… SOUND OFF…."

"Sound off… one two… sound off three four…"

"One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!"

Light private craft sat in front of small hangars, while others sat at the ends of narrow concrete or gravel landing strips. By now the packs seemed to weigh ten times what they did before, and both were almost dragging their heels after the still fresh Baki leading them towards a modest sized jet, a bit battered and painted only in white and silver with no markings.

Still they continued to sing, "I don't know, but it's been said, West Point boys are good in bed…. SOUND OFF…"

"Sound off… one two… sound off three four…"

"One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!"

"Got a girl, lives on a hill…. Says she won't, but I know she will… SOUND OFF…"

"Sound off… one two… sound off three four…"

"One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!" they panted as they closed the gap with their leader.

"Haul your ass and load up!" Baki pointed to the open rear of the craft. It was a cargo plane, the sort whose entire tail section swung up to reveal big stacks of crates and drums. Already someone else was climbing up the rough ramp into the belly of the plane. A rather handsome man with blonde hair was carrying a backpack similar to them. He vanished inside. Stopping Gohan and Trunks braced their hands against their thighs, bent over and heaving for breath. Baki stood before them, shaking his head incredulously.

"Don't tell me you two are tired already! You have the time on the plane to sleep but no more! There's no use asking WHERE you're going. Just get on board and we'll see if you have what it takes to pass my test," Baki grunted, and nodded to two muscular men wearing sunglasses, khaki shorts, and short cropped hair who were loading other items on to the plane.

"Yes sir…" was all Gohan could pant before he staggered over towards the ramp. One of the men was motioning with one leather-gloved hand after returning to the opening of the cargo hold. Trunks followed his lover on board, his lavender hair dark with sweat. Baki nodded and watched his new privates vanish into the plane.

Still breathless Gohan and Trunks took off their packs and set them where their guide indicated. Two empty seats were folded down from the sides of the craft, behind a stack of moored crates tied down with cargo net. They were basic seats, with hard backs and minimal padding that Gohan and Trunks slumped into. Rough webbed belts clipped across their hips and over one shoulder. Through the seat cushions, they could feel the vibration of the plane's engines, while the drone obscured all but the shouts of their pilot who was already seated. Already the third man in fatigues was belted into his seat, closer to the cockpit that was delineated only by a white line painted on the floor. Their guide pulled a lever that caused the tail section to swing down. Daylight waned to a crack, and then plunged them into darkness. Both demis dropped into exhausted sleep as they felt the plane slowly turn and taxi to the runway.


End file.
